


Like a Lung

by Seek_The_Mist



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Call Down The Hawk Sampler, Call Down the Hawk Spoilers, Edgeplay, Introspection, M/M, Missing Scene, Porn with Feelings, Reunion Sex, Someone had to cave it was only a matter of time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 12:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19151419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seek_The_Mist/pseuds/Seek_The_Mist
Summary: Call Down The Hawk Spoilers AlertA meeting, too much love to spare, and what happened between an evening and a morning.





	Like a Lung

**Author's Note:**

>   
>   
> Super compressed summary, because I don't want anyone to get spoiled if they hadn't read (and don't want to read) the sampler. If you're here, I trust you to know what's good in life, but let me reinstate it again...
> 
> **This work is 300% Call Down The Hawk spoilers**
> 
> If you're fine with it, this work will also hopefully be all the Dorm-Sex-Drenched-With-Feelings goodness that you need. At least, I needed it, and this is the result of my late-night + early-morning writing frenzy because my boys are too in love and I can't cope. 
> 
> Spare some kind thoughts to Rachel (purrsnicket) who betaed this work and endured my spiralling. Also thank the anon prompter of my Tumblr that gave me a one-liner a while ago; I ended up going very much off on it, evidently.
> 
> Please enjoy!  
>   
> 

  
  
  


“I want it too much,” Adam said.

“It’ll work,” Ronan told him. “It’ll work.”

It had to. There was no way Ronan would let it not, not if at stake there was Adam who made several different brands of impossible work, right before Ronan’s eyes, only to yearn for Ronan’s presence. 

In the low light of the college room, Adam raised a hand to run it through his hair. “I just…” he said, and then he broke into a smile, the type of smile that was angled towards the floor without really being hidden. “Okay, yes, I’ll come with. I mean, if just to see what you, Declan and Matthew can make of a renting appointment…”

“Fuck off, there is a team effort here, did I mention the eight hours in the car? Have you got any idea of what chaos agent Matthew is, in a car?” 

Arguably, that might be pinned as Ronan’s fault, since Ronan had dreamt his little brother. But most of his living dreams developed a personality of their own — otherwise, Chainsaw wouldn’t pick at Ronan’s head to get treats and Opal would actually avoid eating half the kitchen utensils, for example. 

Ronan had intended for it to be a joke, to widen Adam’s smile further and diffuse away any weight that induced him to hide in plain sight at Harvard. But Adam’s mind swung it sideways in a surprise hit, and he asked, “So Declan is completely fine with this?” 

“He fucking drove here, I mean, half the time! If it had been a trick he would have abandoned me on the highway,” Ronan replied, trying not to _deflect_ , as Declan himself reproached, or Adam would smell the uncertainty. 

“No, he wouldn’t,” Adam said, but he laughed before he could finish the sentence and that was a relief. “He wouldn’t, you would just dream yourself a way out of it.”

“Damn right I would, I told you I was coming.” Something about the whole scenario left Ronan outraged and taken by some degree of urgency, as if there might be a real possibility looming that someone would forcibly put a stop to this whole moving-to-Adam plan. 

The highest probability for that _something_ was for it to be Ronan _himself_.

Adam’s hand moved away from his hair, leaving it in a disarray much more spontaneous than his Harvard-Adam casualness, and reached for Ronan again. His fingertips were colder than the rest of his hand, against the skin of Ronan’s nape, and Ronan slid closer again. It was the third time in this same night and what was most outrageous was the fact that they kept drawing away. 

“I was very much looking forward to this,” Adam murmured, as if trying to regain balance. 

Ronan yanked him close for the rest of the way, grasping onto his waist over the tweed vest, and swore silently to not get derailed again. There must be another time for doubts, another time for discussion. A time that did not overlap with Adam’s presence after so much absence.

They had kissed so long before that he could still feel it on his lips, but when Adam lifted his head and they found each other again Ronan wanted it just as much. Two times more, ten times more. 

Adam gave a shuddering exhale, still raw at edges that remained very much exposed, but when he licked slowly along Ronan’s lower lip and pulled at his nape more markedly, Ronan did feel like their centre of gravity was still in the right place. 

He drove his hands up, running them along Adam’s sides and letting the fabric crease along his touch. With his arms crossed over Adam’s back, he held him close enough, steady enough, that Ronan himself could feel the pressure.

It only made Adam more insistent in kissing him, his head tilted to the side and his tongue tracing the roof of Ronan’s mouth in a little flick. 

It was amazing, and fundamental like a basic need. 

A year ago, each of these touches had been an overwhelming novelty. Now, instead, it was sweetly familiar. Of all the changes Adam might have gone through while Ronan was not looking, while they lived two separate lives, the way he liked to be kissed remained unaffected: Adam liked it persistent, more than deep, especially at the beginning, as if he didn’t really know what to do with the spark of physicality. But it was easy to persuade him to indulge longer, to let each other’s breaths break on it, and Adam would gasp softly in Ronan’s mouth only when he could not go on any longer, nibbling on his lower lip as his chest rose and fell against Ronan’s. 

If the ground swayed under Ronan, now, it was for a much different kind of sentiment.

He didn’t want to let go, he didn’t want this to be the pattern of his visit — you let go and shit happens — so he stole another kiss, just lips against lips, with his eyes still half-closed, and caressed Adam’s back firmly enough to make him exhale again. 

Ronan wanted him. _God_ , he wanted him.

This called for a compromise, which very rarely fell into Ronan’s skillset. 

Adam’s nose brushed against his own, slow and almost pensive. He still had his eyes closed and two fingers brushed right at the back of Ronan’s head, where the hair was the softest.

Ronan lifted his head, just enough to put Adam in focus and have Adam look back up, with a slow blink in the dark.

“Take off your clothes,” Ronan asked, or wanted to ask, but in the rush the proper interrogative tone went kind of missing.

Adam blinked faster, a more charged inhale and a slower exhale in the dark. This time, when he drove back, it surely wouldn’t be for another convoluted conversation. He reached behind himself, without losing sight of Ronan, and the click of the lock shutting the door close made Ronan’s heart miss a beat. 

There was no need for an outright agreement in the silence that followed. Fabric rustled and Adam slowly divested, one piece at a time, but with enough haste to tell Ronan how little patience he had for teasing. It was a good sentiment, one that Ronan’s raising blood pulse very much agreed with. 

The vest went first, the shirt came right after, and then Adam shuffled to the side to leave his clothes on the chair. 

That kicked Ronan into action, taking off his boots, socks, and jacket to discard them on the floor with much less care. He dragged his own shirt away from the back of his shoulders, and after he caught Adam staring. It was a good stare, intense, analytical without being clinical. 

Ronan knew Adam’s desire even before Adam rushed to strip all the way. “Come on,” he murmured. “Come on, Ronan.”

Standing with only his boxers on against the faint light that filtered from the outside, this Adam was an Adam Ronan would never misplace. He was strong arms and eternally tense shoulders, slender chest and taut stomach, long legs that were steadily leaving behind the teenaged sort-of-gawkiness. It was, also, the little catch in Adam’s breath when Ronan dropped his gaze very pointedly to the bulge in his boxers. 

This would always be unfiltered. And it would always be Ronan’s.

“Take those off, too,” Ronan suggested, with a little smirk. 

Adam frowned but it had no heat. He pulled his underwear down sharply, just past the middle of his thighs, and after that he let it fall defiantly, only to kick it off.

“Like this?”

Ronan knew this edge too, and liked to deal with it much better.

He didn’t reply but he unbuckled his belt, and that, too, made Adam exhale. 

They needed to be on Adam’s shitty, narrow dorm bed now, fifteen minutes ago, yesterday. Before anything else could happen, given the weird pace of this day.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah, like this.”

Ronan stalked Adam with the same rush of his own thoughts, making him back against the edge of the mattress, and then on it. It was a pity not to be able to shove him onto it without risking Adam smashing the back of his head against the wall — and again, Ronan was done taking chances for today. 

Adam slid backwards, his cock jumping a bit at the movement and then growing harder when Ronan put a knee on the bed, right between Adam’s legs, and bent down to kiss him again, because nothing else could ever condense the need he was feeling better.

“Oh God,” Adam breathed, when Ronan slid away from his mouth wetly and bit his way to Adam’s neck — light but indisputably _there_. “Oh…” again, when Ronan landed on his neck and kissed it more softly. His hands reached, unseeing, to undo Ronan’s dark jeans and pull them down, and every place Adam’s hands brushed went up in flames.

Ronan let Adam go just enough to help him drag the trousers all the way off, barely giving himself space to snatch them away from around his ankle. He was too eager for Adam, too eager to push him down against the pillow and kiss the other side of his neck, too eager to feel their skin against each other. 

“I barely managed to fall asleep, yesterday,” Adam murmured into the dark, and Ronan felt the vibration of his words against his lips. “I kept thinking...that you were going to be here...I kept touching myself…”

Whatever did Ronan do without Adam for two months, it was a mystery.

“Yeah?” Ronan asked, curious about an insomnia that came without survival instinct. “What did you want me to do to you?”

Adam’s breath caught and then ran deeper. “This,” he pressed on the top of Ronan’s shaved head.

Ronan slid lower, kissing along his chest and thumbing lightly at Adam’s right nipple as he held him down just to mark a point. “This?”

“Yeah, this,” Adam’s voice hitched, and his stomach jumped as Ronan sucked his way down — slow enough to make Adam feel it, to make him scratch deliciously at the top of Ronan’s head when Ronan nosed at his ribs and traced his abdominal muscles with one hand. 

“Mmmhnm” Ronan hummed, settling more squarely between Adam’s legs. “‘Cause I really wanted to do this.” He lifted his head again and went to kiss the tip of Adam’s cock. It was so hard and yet it managed to jump under the contact, a little overexcited twitch even though Ronan’s right hand was holding Adam’s hips steady. There was a sincerity in it, a sharp black-white-yes-no unblurred line, that completely agreed with Ronan.

“Yes, yes, that too, ye...ah…”

Ronan smirked and dropped his mouth open, letting Adam’s hard cock slide inside with a long lick and a slight suck at the end. He felt Adam straining under his grip on his hip bones, his nipples harder and more sensitive when Ronan ran his other hand all the way up, palm flat, to touch them.

It was so easy to get lost in this, in Adam’s heavy breaths and the slick noises of Ronan’s own mouth. Easy, and impossible to fuck up, also, no matter how spectacular Ronan seemed to be in that regard, at least giving head to his boyfriend seemed to be an art that agreed with him. 

“ _Ah_ …” Adam gave in to a full moan, his hips thrusting upwards mindlessly in what little room Ronan conceded. 

It was the type of abandon Ronan always looked forward to, but then he heard Adam’s teeth clicking, as if in a frustrated afterthought. “Mmhn?” he murmured, letting Adam go just a bit, but still staying very close — close enough that licking the wetness away from the tip of Adam’s cock. 

Adam choked on a frustrated, enthusiastic sound, and tossed his head back on the pillow. It took him a moment to reply, and Ronan did not cooperate too much to the effort. “Thin walls...remember?”

“Fucking hell.”

Ronan could slide up and kiss him, that would solve it, but also he had missed the weight of Adam in his mouth, the eager way they ended up breathing together and Ronan’s mind went carefully blind in the motion, his own body growing hotter and hotter. He wanted it more, so he growled and swallowed Adam back, all the way in, and his maximum contribution to Harvard’s need for propriety or whatever was stretching his left hand all the way to Adam’s mouth. 

He didn’t even need to ask for Adam to open wide and suck two fingers in his mouth.

This was more of a Ronan thing than an Adam thing, but along the months it had assumed the thrill of a shared private gesture, the type of inconsistent pleasure that could instigate or escalate a moment of passion. 

Hearing Adam hum while pressing his tongue against Ronan’s fingers _definitely_ instigated Ronan plenty.

He sucked Adam off more, enough to make his back arch away from the bed with a little bite on Ronan’s finger that went to fry Ronan’s nerves further. Then he pulled back, slow enough to be teasing, to glance at Adam. Even with Ronan’s hand on his face, Ronan’s fingers in his mouth, his cock wet of Ronan’s spit and his body right underneath Ronan’s, Ronan still ached for Adam, as if having him now only exacerbated the withdrawal. 

“I really want to fuck you,” he confessed, incapable of looking away. 

Adam groaned, his eyes fluttering closed, and that would have been green light enough, but he still let go of Ronan’s hand, flicking his tongue off his fingers, to say, “I imagined that, too.”

And that was more than plenty enough for Ronan to get up on his knees to reach for the bedside table, no additional dancing around needed — or possible, because Ronan was going to die if he had to wait a second longer.

“You still have the condoms?” he asked, even as he opened the drawer. 

Adam shuffled around to toss away the covers and leave them on plain sheets, breaking away in a breathless laughter, “We only used four last time, who else would I use it with?”

Perfectly fair question, if it weren’t for that small hint of paranoia that still gnawed at Ronan’s thoughts.

“Dunno, Parrish, maybe fancy Harvard boys use condoms to play with water bombs, what do I know.” 

Adam laughed louder, and the sound was the stuff of Ronan’s most tender dreams. He smiled over it, but also over the packet of condoms and the thin tube of lube he fished out of Adam’s bedside drawer.

Last time he’d visited, two months ago, Ronan had brought the condoms at a shitty shop on the interstate, at the break of dawn, and he had hurled the packet at Adam at some point in the middle of the afternoon, when they came back to this same room. The rooms beside Adam’s had been deserted, and Ronan had said, “I forgot the fucking lube,” as the only explanation to the gesture. But Adam, perfect and a little devious as always, had said, “I’ve got the lube”.

It was perfect to get to use it now. It felt like continuity, like a habit, amidst so much disruption. It was more similar to what they’d had together for almost a year, with Adam settling and expanding at the Barns, only to leave and make Ronan feel all of his absence.

He didn’t want to think about it, or let alone make _Adam_ think about it, so he just tossed away his own underwear and went to lie down on the bed again. It was so narrow, so cramped, they barely fit by being on their sides. And yet, it was too far away for Ronan’s tastes.

“Come here, come here,” he demanded, as if he wasn’t already dragging Adam forward by the shoulders. 

There wasn’t a real purpose apart from the longing of Adam’s body against his own. The fact that Adam crashed into kissing Ronan hard was a welcome addition to the mix, one that Ronan wasn’t in a rush to put an end to. 

Adam tossed one arm against Ronan’s shoulder and licked into his mouth, with no qualms whatsoever in rocking his spit-slick cock right against Ronan’s. It was wonderful, mindless, and Adam was warm, _warm_ , warmer than any dream where Ronan dreamt of fire. 

“Jesus fuck,” Ronan groaned, half-muffled by Adam’s tongue. 

Adam stroked along his back from the top and the bottom of it, groping at the curve of Ronan’s ass even though he had very explicitly asked to be fucked for this turn. He gave away a little satisfied hum when Ronan reached to grasp Adam’s leg, right at the bend of the knee, and dragged it up against his own side. That left Ronan with more room, Adam’s chest perfectly pressed against his own, and also a very distracting amount of contact between their cocks. 

“Better,” Ronan declared, against Adam’s lips — half a question, half a statement — before uncapping the lube and slicking his right hand without even looking at it.

“Mmmhnyes,” Adam squirmed, enough to make their cocks slide against each other but also to hook his leg properly around Ronan’s. 

They were not quite kissing steadily anymore, too busy in eagerly arranging things around, but they still breathed against each other’s mouth. Occasionally, Adam would press his lips to Ronan’s mouth, again and again and again until Ronan snapped and kissed him hard, or it was Ronan that nibbled distractingly at Adam’s lips and it just devolved into some more making out.

Somewhere along the line, Adam managed to unwrap the two condoms without ripping everything apart, even though putting them on devolved into a leisured jerking off session that made Ronan’s head spin. In retaliation, Ronan stroked along the crack of Adam’s ass, his cheeks as firm as Ronan remembered and vaguely spread apart by the position. When he bent his middle finger and brought it inside Adam, the spasm against his body was just delicious.

“Uh…” Adam’s chest jumped on a hiccup, and Ronan was half sure that the stillness was for him to savour the first slide of Ronan’s finger in and out of him, rather than adjusting to it. It was all too easy to bring his index finger along side the middle, to properly feel the strength and stretch of Adam’s body.

“You’re taking it easy…” Ronan whispered, brushing their noses and breathing the same air.

It was, compared to other times, compared to the first times where the cooperation of their bodies had to be won. It was as easy as days when Ronan had barely taken his hands off Adam, only to put them back right after.

“I told you, I told you I kept touching…”

Ronan had to kiss him on this, because the thought of Adam daydreaming of getting fucked in the wait for him made Ronan regret not having resolved to this whole moving thing sooner. His head was full of cotton, full of heat. He tuned out the distant sounds of a whole campus moving around them on a Friday night and he didn’t manage to wonder who he needed to thank for Adam’s unknown roommate for having been out of the way enough to allow for two, not one, needy nights.

“Ronan,” Adam uttered, half muffled by kissed. “Ronan, Ronan…”

This, Ronan had imagined too. Its name, on Adam’s lips, in urgency. He had heard it his whole life and yet it had never felt like it did when Adam said it like this. It soothed any anguish, any doubt, and made Ronan spiral in a world in which everything that existed were their bodies, that voice, those kisses, that pleasure making Ronan’s stomach tense.

“Yeah…” he agreed to more than what was being said, jostling Adam higher in his grip. “Yes, Adam…”

Whoever said there was a limit to how close you could be lied. You could always be closer, and the only thing that Ronan wondered was if there would ever be a day when it would be _enough_ , without Adam’s breath reverberating in his brain to the subtle whisper of more. _More, more_.

_More_ was sliding his fingers out of Adam and grasping him tight, one hand on Adam’s thigh and the other smearing lube on his own cock while lining it up. _More_ was Ronan’s lips brushing Adam’s neck and Adam’s arm being so wound up around Ronan’s shoulder that it was difficult to feel the pillow underneath. _More_ was thrusting into Adam and Adam sinking down on him.

Of all the changes, none had been substantial enough to change _this_.

There was a low, incoherent sound and it might have been either of them, or both of them, and it didn’t matter.

Adam dropped his forehead against Ronan’s and stroked his back again: two hands, some nails, all pressure as he arched subtly to adjust to the penetration. He was often sweetly silent like this, just breathing and breathing in a way that made Ronan irrationally want to scream. 

Without displacing them, Ronan turned slightly more to his side. There was so little space, and he _needed_ some leverage, any leverage, but he also needed Adam just as wrapped around him as he was. Everything hid a bit of a struggle in Ronan’s life, it seemed. He ran one hand up, all the way from the soft space between Adam’s shoulder blades to bury it in Adam’s hair. 

He pulled out, and thrust back in. 

Just barely, the first time, but then again, longer. A third time, deeper.

The campus lighting filtering from outside was enough to witness the convoluted frown on Adam’s face, as he moaned between and gritted his teeth, clenching in a shiver around Ronan. 

“Must have...for the apartment,” he whispered against Adam’s face, smoothing the burrowing of his forehead with the drag of lips on sweaty skin. “Big bed...where I’ll fuck you nice when I drag you out of this dorm...and also...also where I can hear you moan…”

It felt more like a prayer than a demand, the wishful thinking of the best of Ronan’s hopes he had no leverage to bargain for. But Adam _did_ moan, thin walls or not, and buckled against Ronan with a slow, two-handed drag of nails on his back. 

When Ronan thrust into him with more purpose, adjusting the angle by intuition, one hand trailed all the way down and Adam dug his fingers in Ronan’s ass cheek. The strength of his hand — added to the fact that it was _Adam’s hand_ — made Ronan groan and shiver at the slow rubbing of fingertips along the crack. 

He was half-tempted to ask Adam if he wanted the lube, though it was neither the time nor the place to attempt the type of feats they indulged in during summer at the Barns. Ronan’s stomach coiled with pleasure just thinking about it — Adam’s fingers in his ass, and then Adam’s cock in his ass, and then fingers again because Adam wanted to get fucked too, but neither of them could decide for one and settle, not if they could have both. 

On the wave of the thought, he rocked back and forth against Adam — _inside Adam_ — with enough strength to make the springs of the mattress creak.

“Oh my God…” Adam’s voice frayed off at the edges, and this was much better than any cracked _because_. 

His leg looped more purposefully around Ronan’s in a long shiver and Ronan knew, just like that, that he could make Adam come like this if he kept at it.

Ronan drew a long, shuddering breath, and slowed down.

Adam flopped down in his arms, hiding his face in the soft spot between Ronan’s shoulder and neck. It was familiar, and well-loved, and Ronan could feel Adam catching his breath right on his skin. The clenching around Ronan’s cock softened as Adam’s body settled into the new rhythm, in which they could just rock against each other, barely more than squirming, and _savour it_.

With closed eyes and face pressed against Adam’s messy hair, Ronan hummed low — and then a bit higher when Adam opened his mouth and trailed kisses and bites along Ronan’s neck, catching every sensitive spot and creating new ones at the same time. 

Adam’s middle finger traced softly around Ronan’s hole, a caress that was all teasing and full knowledge of what it did to Ronan. Just like that, Ronan grasped again at Adam’s thigh and built up the rhythm again, to fuck him _hard_.

At every push and pull, Adam’s condom-clad cock rubbed and nudged against Ronan’s abdominal muscles, and Ronan wished he could feel the wetness of it — his mouth _watered_ at the thought — but also knew that college dorms and messy sex were not compatible. 

“I’ll make you come...all over the bed...in the new place...all over yourself…” 

Adam muffled a broken sound against Ronan’s neck, mouth lax as he lost himself in the mental picture as much as in Ronan’s cock. 

Ronan slowed down again.

The sound devolved into a whimpering, but as soon as he stopped trembling on the verge of orgasm Adam melted back against Ronan. Closer, or at least it felt so, even though it was physically impossible. 

“I missed you,” Adam confessed again, half-choked as Ronan’s cock took several of their heavy breaths to slide all the way in, and then all the way out. “You have no idea…”

It took a second for Ronan to realise that it rang through so intensely because Adam’s Harvard persona, his polished accent, slowly unraveled to show the rawest version of himself, in Ronan’s arms. 

“Fuck if I don’t,” Ronan moaned out, with no edge but the unshielded intensity of his heart beating against Adam’s chest. “I missed you too.”

It made him almost angry, to realise that he hadn’t managed to tell Adam out loud before — but he had booked _appointments_ for him, Adam knew for sure. And yet, given the shiver that ran through his back, knowing it didn’t mean that Adam didn’t enjoy being told.

Ronan groaned and built up the rhythm again.

It seemed to go on forever, but forever was exactly where Ronan wanted this to lead. 

Hard, and then soft. Fast, and then slow. And again, and again. 

He wanted Adam to like it in any way he could like it, like it _best_ and with no reservations. Sometimes Ronan felt as if he didn’t do it faster, more ravenously, reality would slip from his hands. Adam would meet him halfway for that, too — consuming everything that might slip through his hands and leave him hungrier than he knew what to do with. 

But it could also be like this, sweaty and steamy hot, with the side of the mattress nudging with a soft thump on the wall and then their bodies trembling together.

“Ro...nan... _ah_...enough, please…” 

The sound of Adam’s voice hiccupping on each of Ronan’s fast-paced thrusts was maddening, and Ronan’s own stomach jumped with the same pleading. 

“Fuck, yeah, okay…” 

He was so on the verge of collapsing, of giving in to the slick slide of his cock in Adam’s ass. He should have slowed down if he wanted to try and hold on a bit longer, but he didn’t. He held Adam impossibly tight, pulling at his hair to drag him up into a messy, wet kiss, and fucked him like they both needed. 

He felt Adam cracking past the brink of his orgasm by the trembling of his tongue in Ronan’s mouth, and kissed him right though it — through the sudden clench and then spiralling relaxation. Ronan closed his eyes, tight. 

Once upon a time, he had told Adam he knew when he was asleep and when he was awake. He wish he could explain to him now, how this could never be a dream because Adam made reality spark under Ronan’s eyelids. But he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t, and Adam squirmed mindlessly between Ronan’s cock and Ronan’s stomach, shivering through his orgasm and distilling pleasure out of the aftershock, so probably it didn’t matter.

Of all the possible things — the clawing, the kissing, the fucking, the entwined leg — and in the end it was Adam sucking lightly at the tip of Ronan’s tongue that made him shiver one time too much. 

Ronan came so hard it felt like fireworks in his brain.

What followed was uncoordinated, as if they had both tumbled down a crest that had spiralled too high to be graceful, but Adam hummed mindlessly with pure pleasure and Ronan would take awkward for this any time.

When they flopped back down, Ronan was still holding onto just one of Adam’s legs, tight against his side, but his back was pressed fully on the bed. His cock was still buried deep in Adam’s ass, and Adam whined but still shuffled around to flop against Ronan, on top of Ronan.

He was heavy, and warm, and sweaty, and panting. Ronan loved him so much he didn’t know what to do with himself but to stroke Adam’s back, comb Adam’s hair, and wait for the both of them to gather the will to move again.

With the most subtle of movements, without dislodging Ronan’s hand, Adam shuffled his head and pressed his hearing ear against the middle of Ronan’s chest. He sighed, deep, and his breath curled at the end as if in a mindless pleasure. 

_He’s listening to my heart_ , Ronan realised, with a very different sway overtaking the ground underneath him.

In the darkness of the room, echoing with their heavy breaths, Ronan’s heart skipped several beats, and he wished for Adam to savour them all.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Kudos, comments, incoherent screeching, and extensive sobbing about All My Fucking Feels© are more than welcome. You can also find me on [My Tumblr](http://seekthemist.tumblr.com) askbox and random keysmashes are very much appreciated!
> 
>   ~~Now let me go back at writing Beyond the Edge of Our Hope, I swear I've been multitasking~~


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